Obsidian Daylight

[The Almight Red]

The hand that clutched a dagger would begin to fly swiftly through the air, the back of the palm connecting harshly with flesh. After only three such strikes, the wood elf began to regain consciousness, eyes opening to the scenario.
　
Standing over her was a diminuitive woman, clad in midnight robes, mask, and cowl. With one hand, the small woman gripped the wood elf's hair harshly, the other still grasping the dagger.
　
Behind this woman would be three others, all silently watching. A moon elf, another small figure in a cowl and mask, and a large, hulking figure of a man.
　
"Ah, you're awake," the pleased words muffled slightly from behind the black mask.
　
With the dagger's tip, she traces along the wood elf's neck.
　
"Will you scream?"
　
The wood elf's reply would be preceded by a laugh, almost a giggle. Her words tinged with madness, an insanity dripping from each utterance, "Because of just a dagger?"
　
Rather than dialogue further, the masked woman immediately snatches at one of the wood elf's ears, and slashes off the upper half of such. The only reaction of the wood elf would be a twitch of her eye, and then nothing but defeaning silence.
　
"You see, Kestalina, this is what happens when you remain among the surface, among their peoples. You become insane, and you lose your veneration of things elves shuold find so important."
　
Following these words, the masked woman then cleanly slices off the wood elf's other tip of an ear. Behind her, the moon elf would watch attentively, nodding slowly to the lecture.
　
"They become little more than animals. But you, you should have pride, for growing up among a prestiged society, not barbarism. Not like the orcs, and humans, and surface elves. Even Vaelek is more worthy than all of these surfacers, now."
　
At these last words, the human, that was more a mound of muscle, practically puffs his chest out at the small woman's words, pride etched across his features. He would not remain long as such, however, as the woman in black snapped her fingers.
　
"Vaelek, pop her fingers off."
　
Without a moment's hesitation, the large man lumbered forth, like some automaton brought to life. Taking the tortured elf's tiny hand in his own mammoth ones, he starts snapping and crushing her fingers. Amidst this action, the woman with the dagger begins ripping out each of the wood elf's other hand's nails with the tip of her weapon.
　
"In time, they shall come to learn, Kestalina. Learn as you did, where their place is. And their lives will be better for it."
　
Completed with the mutilation of the poor wood elf's fingers, the sadistic individual grasps her at the chin, placing the dagger to her nose, carving it off. During the whole measure, her words would be cool and nonchalant, "It is our place to do such."
　
Finally, finished with the grisly task, she stands up, noting that the wood elf was somehow still conscious, despite the whole ordeal. Pushing a boot to the wood elf's chest upon the ground, the woman in black hold the dagger out behind her.
　
"Come, Kestalina, you will have the honor."
　
The moon elf finally moves from her submissive position of audience, now taking up the role of participant. Grasping the dagger, the moon elf steps near the body of the wood elf, standing poised with the dagger ready, awaiting merely the word of the masked woman.
　
"A moment, Kestalina."
　
Looking down to the wood elf, the torturer removes both mask and cowl, her dove like hair spilling out around an obsidian face, both altogether enrapturing and irredeemably cruel at once.
　
"Look into my face, surfacer. Know this face. Know the face of your superiors."
　
At these words, the other individual who had been masked now removes it, also revealed to be a drow. With a grin, even a smirk, he also approaches, looking down at the mutilated elf, his countenance mocking and amused.
　
With a voice seeming to relish the moment, drinking it in with fervor, "Know this face as you slip into whatever oblivion awaits you. Whatever abysmal destination is on the other side, know that your people are doomed."
　
She then makes a small motion to the moon elf, to which results in the tiny, frail creature slamming the dagger down into the breast of the wood elf with all her might, struggling to push it as deep as such a blade might possibly go.
　
As the last breaths of life leave the tortured soul, the female drow nods once, holding out an expecting hand to the moon elf. Once the dagger was returned, the drow turns to address all of those still living.
　
"There is more work to be done. Come."

And just like that, they vanished into the woods of the Viridale, leaving behind the broken body.

[The Almight Red]

As the last of the sun's light dipped behind the horizon, six souls gathered in a small clearing surrounded by crag formations. A third masked individual as well as a hin now added to the four from nights before, who had tortured and murdered the wood elf.

But this time there seemed to be no strangers among the group, no captured victims, but all counted as familiar with eachother, at least to some extent. The one clad in black robes and mask suddenly barked a short order, in the tongue of the Drow.

"Line them up, Zebeydril."

Without the smallest hesitation, the third masked drow quickly moved to usher the human, the elf, and new halfling into a neat line before the commanding drow, Shurvrae. A few moments passed as her eyes gazed over them, before they then snapped to the second masked figure, the male drow from before. Her words now spoke under a harsher, more banal language, the language of the Underdark, but not particular to her people.

"What do you think, Iltzafein? Are they a loyal group?"

The male's eyes quirked a bit at the unexpected question, resulting in a pause for a few moments before he replied, "Why would you ask?"

"Answer the question, male!"

Iltzafein's eyes drifted to the trio lined before them for a few moments, before he offered, "I would say they are, mistress."

Shurvrae continued with her inquiries, her voice cool and calm once again, "Would you say they are as loyal as yourself, Iltzafein?"

The male drow's eyes quickly averted from the slaves, now settled to Shurvrae, a tinge of caution and curiosity evident in his voice, "I fail to understand the purpose of that question."

With contained rage, Shurvrae turned her whole body to face Iltzafein, her voice releasing portioned ire into her words, "I do not recall you receiving the liberty to question me, male. Should you find the capacity to do such again, I will be sure to rectify it, permanently."

Seeming to understand, Iltzafein's answer came swiftly, "Yes, I would say they are."

"Which is your favorite, Iltzafein? Which of these slaves do you esteem in particular?"

There was not a question from the male drow this time, no hesitation was in his answer, "None of them, mistress. They are all the same to my eyes."

Shurvrae's eyes took their leave of Iltzafein, settling upon the group as a whole, her words addressed to them all, "Even now, you lie, male. You lie despite the scenario you now find yourself in. Come before me, male."

One finger beckoned to Iltzafein, as he began to make his way closer to her. As he drew near, she pointed directly in front of herself, "Kneel, male."

Iltzafein obediently placed himself on bended knee before the woman. Shurvrae looked up from the figure, her eyes darting to the moon elf that had stood amongst the other slaves, entirely quiet.

"Filth, kneel beside him!"

With meek, even fearful eyes, Kestalina scurried over to perform the commanded task, practically throwing herself to the ground before the drow. Shurvrae's voice quieted a touch in volume, as now her words were addressed to the two directly before her.

"It would be one thing for another woman to challenge my rule, male. They would fail, but it would at least have some precedent. It would be understandable. But you? You are the lowest sort. One who doesn't even understand his place in society, his place in structure. You would topple all that is done for your own petty machinations."

Shurvrae's foot struck out, kicking Iltzafein in the chest, sending him sprawling upon his back. The drowess quickly moved to his side, using the same boot to plant into his midsection, holding him to the ground.

"You know what you did. There's little point in you continuing to lie, male. Do you have anything to say for yourself? Why you would challenge my rule?"

With an impetuous grin, the drow looked up to her, his answer dripping with sarcasm, "I was bored."

Her countenance once more became cool and calm, Shurvrae slid a dagger out from the sleeves of her robes.

"Well, perhaps I can afford you some entertainment, male." Her eyes darted over to the other drowess. "Zebeydril, hold him down. I wouldn't wish for him to... squirm."

It was only now that Iltzafein finally lost the capacity to prove ever defiant, the situation quickly spinning far from his control. As Zebeydril approached him, she wore a broad smile beneath the mask, speaking to the glee and twisted joy she found in the event. Once his shoulders were held down, Iltzafein went entirely quiet, bracing himself for whatever was to come.

With dagger still in hand, Shurvrae leaned down over Iltzafein, sliding its tip from the bottom of his cheek, all the way up to the edge of his left eye. It would only linger in such a position for a moment, before she'd then dig it inside, through the tight membrane that was there to keep that orb neatly in place.

Iltzafein spasmed, the shock of pain running through his body. It would not end there, however, as the drowess rotated the blade around the eye cavity, seperating his precious ocular device from the tissue that was meant to hold it there. What was first a line of pain down his body became shockwave after shockwave of indescribable horror, as he began to cry out the same words over and over.

"I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou! I'llkillyou!"

Her reply came in a cool and collected voice, "No, male, you will not." Her eyes shot over to the large human that had stood silently the whole while. "Vaelek, hold the filth, so if she should decide to run, most unwisely."

Once again, the automaton came to life, loping over next to the small moon elf. His large hands grasped at her tiny shoulders, ensuring that she would bear witness to the entirety of this event and whatever part she would play.

"Ah, you are still awake?" Shurvrae's brows raised lightly as she inspected Iltzafein below her. With the tip of her dagger, she raised the orb out of its socket, which prompted the drow to finally pass out from the pain. Shurvrae slid her dagger back into the folds of her robes, then using her two free hands to pull the eye free of its socket, even yanking apart the roped tissue, nerves, and veins that would have held it to the rest of his body.

Walking over to the kneeling moon elf, she harshly grasped her by the chin, forcing Kestalina to look up at her.

"You will never betray me again, for you will know far worse is to come. You will never fail to tell me of conspiracies against me. You will never test my clemency."

Shurvrae's hand moved from Kestalina's chin, then wrapping around her cheeks, pressing forcefully as to push the moon elf's mouth open. A moment later, the disembodied eye was forced into Kestalina's mouth, followed by her chin being forced upward, her mouth closed.

"Swallow!"

Tears streamed down the moon elf's face. A few moments passed as the pitiful thing fought to not gag, to not regurgitate whatever already resided in her belly. Finally, she found the ability to swallow down the disgusting object in her mouth. Her reward was a sharp back hand from her mistress, sending the small elf harshly to the ground.

Shurvrae's gaze once again returned to all of those still standing Her eyes spoke of a fire that burnt behind them, that forceful and assured voice still containing some ire behind it.

"They are no longer known as Iltzafein and Kestalina. You will not call Iltzafein master. You will not call him Iltzafein. He is to be known simply as male, even by those of you that are lesser, for he has proven himself wretched and pathetic. The moon elf is never to be known as Kestalina. She is simply Filth, for that is truly what she is. She is as a cesspool, a wretch heap of garbage.

Let this be a testament to what happens to those that cross me. Those that cross me cross the plans of Kiransalee! I will not tolerate any of you to work against the works of our goddess! The next, should this happen, I will not grant such mercy as I have here."

Through it all, the human, Vaelek, seemed to find sick pleasure in seeing the male drow shamed and tortured.

Through it all, the halfling, Mari, seemed to betray very little emotion, just perfect obedience and posture.

Through it all, Zebeydril seemed to find delight in watching the horrific show, a perverse smile playing upon her lips, and a wavering between cackles and gleeful laughter.

The gruesome acts done, and Shurvrae's authority once more solidified, their plans could commence once again.